Love Panic
by paranoia complex
Summary: [AU] Obsession, love, distress, and rock stars compile the motley students of the prestigious ShinRa Academy.
1. Operation 01

As of 07/20/08, this chapter has been revised _slightly_. I'm actually pretty content that, two years later, I kind of like the progression of this story. Unfortunately, the only reason I'm coming back is I'm bored at the moment and need to polish up on my writing. Update ahead! Enjoy!

* * *

**NOTES -**  
Artistic liberties are being implemented as I take over plot and conflict in due time. The direction this story was meant to go is going to change a little bit. Mind you, it still retains its alternate universe and bizarre, acid-laced concept of rock stars and other mangled perceptions of the world we've come to know and love. And, because I've finally seen AC, this new version takes recent revelations into consideration.

**Pairing - **MVO, a.k.a. Multiple Vague Ones**  
Summary -** AU; Obsession, love, distress, and rock stars compile the motley students of the prestigious Shin-Ra Academy.

_**Warning -**_ Severely AU. Unrequited (?) slash and your regular programmed heterosexual relationships. _Exaggerated_ drama, movie references, etc.

* * *

**LOVE PANIC**  
_paranoia complex_

Operation 01: An Eccentric's Guide to Local Living 101

-

Yuffie Kisaragi could only slump her shoulders, as she stared at her dreadfully lanky frame in the mirror. It was of utmost importance to mention that this was a fault caused by her good-for-nothing father, who felt it best to transfer her to an internationally well-known boarding school at such late notice. It inevitably resulted in her late discovery about impossible dress code policies. She had rightfully assumed that her standard sleeveless tops and shorts were passable, but, much to her dismay, such 'revealing' clothing was strictly prohibited.

So she stood in front of her condescending reflection, entertaining her mental bleeding and emotional trauma with homicidal re-enactments of her good-for-nothing father. After stealing his most prized possessions, of course. And kicking him in the shins.

Her staring contest ended abruptly, as she sighed in defeat.

For Leviathan's sake, the bloody uniform just _sagged_ over her body. Not only was this quite possibly a socially destructive way of representing oneself, it was also very, _very_ unbecoming. In other words, she looked rather frumpy.

A frumpy grape, to be exact. And to add insult to injury, she was an _ugly_ frumpy grape, which was hardly helpful to her ego in a critical time of teenage angst and fragile self-fortitude against other like-minded young adults that were bound to pose as obstacles. She looked about as desirable as –

"You look like a shriveled raisin," a voice suddenly interrupted. She stiffened. It was somewhat squeaky and raspy, somewhat an embodiment of a shrimp-sized pipsqueak with an attitude.

Yuffie spun on her heels, glaring at the boy who conveniently invited himself into her _sacred_ room.

Shake.

Oh, how she would have _loved_ to shake – pun intended – the living daylights out of him. And a couple more brain cells. Not that he had any more to lose. She reached over her bed and, before he could be given any chance to react, picked up her nearly full suitcase and flung it at his head. _Death By Suitcase_, she thought grimly. It would have made for a very entertaining headline in her village. She watched as he fell down in a satisfying dull _thud_, and she swore she could have heard an echo. Somewhat expected of someone whose head was full of absolutely nothing.

"I am _not_ a raisin!" she declared, defiantly.

"Are you _sure_? Because you're lacking a healthy dose of curves, and you've got terrible wrinkles around your fa-

"_When I'm finished with you, you won't be able to breathe through your face_!"

In a matter of moments, the Kisaragi Manor shook with early morning riot, erupting in full-fledged wresting, yelling, and the waste of a good breakfast.

-

-

Yuffie stepped off the train, muttering under her breath as she was volleyed around by moving bodies, simply because she was a little on the _petite_ side. Honestly! If the little beast hadn't interfered with her packing, not only would she have been able to bury him alive, she would have had some time to pack some of her handy weapons in her knapsack. To throw. Particularly at people's faces who _dared_ to think they could just move her around from one end to another like a rag doll. She was _no_ pushover.

_I'll show you all,_ she thought determinedly. _And when I do, I'll-_

"And when you do, you'll what?"

She blanched, involuntarily squeaking in surprise. Had she said that aloud?

She turned around and blushed bright red when a young man with flaming crimson hair looked down at her, expensive sunglasses resting atop his distinct mop of ruffled and bedraggled appearance. She might have correlated his mussed up hair with a satisfying _physical_ life (Shiva forbid she actually mention _that_ term to describe the action of tangled limbs and unspeakable extremities) if it weren't for the fact that, upon seeing his hair, she was instantly reminded of volcano lava. Erupting with a fury. Much like her temper was for being eavesdropped. Nevertheless, before she could properly chastise this stranger on social etiquette, her gaze traveled to his face. It was pale and smooth, eyes a brightly colored aquamarine, and his lips were tugged in a cool, highly infuriating smirk, a cigarette dangling from the side. She studied the rest of him, then, noticing that his posture left a lot to be desired. And his clothes! Untucked shirt, wrinkly white oxford, et cetera. Didn't his parents teach him anything about being presentable? To her, he was like a swaggering pirate left stranded for days on an island with a rum fetish and on the verge of falling left-of-center.

"Little girl, if you stare any harder my clothes may actually combust." He nodded and looked pensive, then shook his head as if he decided that whatever it was he was thinking would not be smart to vocalize.

She huffed, "Hey, _buddy_, I am _not _a little girl!"

The strange young man laughed, gaining the subtle attention from other passersby in the process but mostly ignored. Random pedestrians moved on with their lives, leaving the two stranded in their odd conversation about absolutely nothing. Or something, maybe. Boy and girl alone on a sidewalk, quarreling over something, was always about one matter or another.

He leaned forward and looked straight into her eyes.

"No, I guess not. Though your looks could use an improvement. More importantly, that uniform. Have it stitched, modernized ... tighter, even." He suggested with a grin.

Yuffie fumed. What a pervert.

"This was the smallest size they had." _God, I'd love to punch your face in and hope to Ultima you die in a pool of your own blood._

He touched his chin, thoughtfully. "'They'. Judging by your spectacular choice in outfit, you're going to Shin-Ra Academy."

She snorted. "I'm glad you have eyes. I don't suppose _you_ go there?"

The young man shrugged in response and bobbed his head, allowing his sunglasses to fall in front of his eyes. _Slick, but not_ that_ impressive,_ she thought. He raised his arm, checking the securely wound wristwatch on his arm.

"Maybe." He said, absently, whilst turning on his heel and walking in the opposite direction. "See you later, Pintsize."

"Get– _Get back here, you creep_!"

-

-

"You really should stop daydreaming; you're beginning to drool."

Elena sipped a bit of her Krakka Energizer. It tasted foul for the average non-vegan individual, maybe, but it was a divine element in her dietary schedule. She watched her friend shake her head, as if to reawaken herself from a daylong slumber. As much as she prided herself in knowing said friend was an intelligent and spiritual human being, Aeris Gainsborough was certainly an _interesting_ – a term she used loosely – person in her own right. Her head, as much as it was full of knowledge, was also full of clouds and dreams and _air_. A lovely person to be around but hardly a conversationalist unless she put her mind to something. Or someone.

Aeris exhaled a contented sigh and looked at her blonde friend.

"Do you think it's unusual?"

Elena raised one brow. "Do I think _what's_ unusual? Your nonsensical infatuation with Cardinali, of all parasites to choose from the entire school? Why, yes, I do believe so."

Aeris looked affronted.

"Reno is not a parasite!"

She scoffed, "He might as well be. He hovers around like an annoying insect whenever you least expect him. And unfortunately, there is no known repellent for that evolutionary specimen we have come to loathe."

"_We_ loathe nothing. _You_ loathe, _I_ love. Although I do have to disagree and say that _that_ is what's so great about him."

"... that he's an annoying insect?"

"No! That he's _there_ whenever you least expect him." Aeris smiled. "It's just so like him, and it's a pleasant surprise every single time. It makes me feel special."

Elena rolled her eyes.

"I hate to break it to you, but ..." Elena trailed off as Aeris continued to smile, tilting her head in curiosity. Was it really necessary to let her know that that was how _all_ estrogen-ridden individuals felt special around him? _Nah_. She did, however, continue. "First of all, define _pleasant_. It's such a vague word. Second, do you _really_ like being teased so mercilessly? It's so – so objectifying! He's verbally abusive, Aeris. Of course, not that you would take it as abuse since you're blinded by what we normal people call misdirected infatuation. What you're feeling is cutting off blood circulation to your _brain_."

"Hey!"

"And last, but certainly not least, your brother wouldn't take the issue of you and one of his friends cavorting around behind his back."

"What, _Rufus_? Technically speaking, he's my _step_brother. There's a big difference that you can't even deny. Besides, of what business is it that I'm interested in one of his friends. He wouldn't even notice. He's really another power-hungry, egotistical, manipulative and hormonal Shin-Ra male. Like his father."

Oh, while Elena wanted to disagree, she felt it best to humor her friend for the time being. Contrary to Aeris' delusional belief that her stepdad and stepbrother were maniacs in search for power and glory, they were really quite compassionate human beings. They were simply determined to a fault. Which, in the real world, was highly regarded as a useful trait.

"Well," she started, "Rufus would find it incredibly disturbing to discover that one of his minions –

"Reno is not a minion!"

Ignore, ignore.

"– is dating his sister. Two things could happen, then, assuming you defied the laws of natural logic and, Shiva forbid, _date_ that _thing_: one, Rufus will lose his dear bodyguard because Reno, in his flawed mind, has theoretically chosen you over his friend; or two, Reno might insist you tag along with them on their merry adventures. Your _step_brother's still protective of you, regardless of whether you're blood-related or not, but Rufus would be disinclined to agree with these two options, leaving you with ... nothing." She finished with a flourish.

"True."

"This is all theoretical, of course."

"Theoretical," Aeris repeated, fondly. "Right."

-

-

Yuffie heaved a sigh of relief when she found her dormitory number. Truthfully, although she was loathe to admit it because the Kisaragi clan would be _shamed_, she was shocked (only slightly) to discover that she was lost _several_ times within the grand building. It really wasn't her fault, what with all the twists and turns, wings, and flights of stairs to remember. Furthermore, the directions that had been given to her were convoluted, confusing, and she had wondered whether there was a minimum intelligent quotient required in order to navigate the school. One had to be a super genius to understand all of the junk written out to her on paper. She was hard-pressed to believe that this establishment was a school. Instead, she was more convinced that this place was a labyrinth meant to torture incoming students such as herself because the headmaster hated life and decided to dump all his woes on the shoulders of the doe-eyed creatures with growing minds and bodies.

Probably hated kids, in general. Ate them for dinner, even.

Making a mental note to find the headmaster later, she focused on opening the door to _Wing C, Room 202_. She was ready to unpack her things and take a long, well-deserved nap. It had been a relief to find out that the move-in dates had been on a weekend, giving her ample time to rest before school started.

What surprised her upon entering her new dormitory was the elegant décor and the group of young students lounging in what she assumed to be the dorm's shared living room. She counted eight different people. _Eight_. Last time she checked, she had only two roommates and coed boarding was nothing she was informed.

"Hey, new blood. Stop gawking and either come in or get out."

Yuffie looked for the origin of the voice and saw it in a regal-looking young man with long, impossibly beautiful hair and sharp, aristocratic features. His voice was silky and lacked the enthusiasm and warmth – comparable to a black hole, really – as he greeted her. Or 'greeted'. Hard to say. His eyes glinted as they studied her weak appearance. She looked down at herself and frowned at her clothes. Really now, had she known that uniforms weren't a daily requirement – as also proven by the run-in she had with several students prior to her room discovery – she certainly wouldn't have worn it on her first day settling into her dorm. She felt like she was a microscopic study, every inch of her being scrutinized under this man's calculating gaze.

Of course, she soon noticed that all eyes had fallen on her, _inspecting_, all suspicious. Like darts, their gazes, ready to stab her if she so much as moved. Unnerving. Creepy. Just plain _weird_.

The red-headed girl stared at her, openly. She wore camouflage pants and a black tank top, her arms crossed over her chest. She looked ready to kill her. Yuffie considered bolting on three. _One, two_ –

"You're not allowed in here." Her voice was firm, direct, authoritative.

_Three_? _Run, stupid girl, run_!

"Unless," the other girl interjected, "you're Yuffie. We're waiting for a Yuffie Kisaragi."

It was then she felt relieved. When she had barged in, they looked about ready to kill her with their eyes. Not that they hadn't already; she already felt violated as it were. The lot of them appeared stony, immaculate human beings – not like the boy she had met earlier upon exiting the train.

"That's, uh, that's me."

The young woman who had last addressed her smiled and waved her over. With caution, Yuffie approached the group, who now seemed less tense and ready to pounce than just seconds earlier. Even the evil man with the silver hair looked less dangerous. Sort of. His face looked permanently affixed to scare people away. Poor children.

As soon as she was close enough, the woman spoke, gesturing to herself before continuing down the row on her left.

"I'm Tifa. This is Jessie, Cloud, Vincent, Biggs, Wedge, Zack, and Sephiroth. Sephiroth isn't very civilized, so I apologize on his behalf for the way he reacted earlier. He can be a little intimidating at first glance."

Coolly, he replied, "I am _always_ intimidating."

In the background, there were several coughs and choked laughter. Thankfully, they had gone unnoticed. Yuffie feared that had he witnessed his friends' disagreement, he would have hacked them limb from limb.

Tifa laughed. "Not when people realize you are the queen of melodrama under all of your so-called intimidating layers."

"Don't you mock me, woman. If this new blood starts warming up to me because you've given her reason to think I might have a soul underneath, I'll have your head."

She shook her head and looked up at Yuffie. "Ignore him. He has a social impediment."

"How dare you insult me!"

This time, Yuffie couldn't hold back a smirk, one that erupted in full-fledged roaring laughter. The rest of the group followed suit and only silenced as Sephiroth looked ready to kill.

Yuffie could feel her right eye twitching.

Sephiroth was _definitely_ and evil, _evil_ man. She could swear that if it weren't for Tifa, he would skin her alive and prod her off a cliff for imminent death. And laugh as she fell and went pancake on all of them. He was a freak. But in no way, come hell or high water, would she say that to his face. She was scared to think of what might follow that sort of confession.

"Well, we really need to get going," Zack announced. "The fair's this evening and we haven't even practiced my solo."

"Solo?" asked Yuffie.

Sephiroth stood up, massive at his six feet and a couple of inches, glaring down at her. She felt lucky for her big clothes; she felt like she could just shrink and hide into them.

"You haven't read the Shin-Ra pamphlet have you, new blood?" he sneered. "Pathetic. Aren't new students given this information before entering this school? Highwind is going to hear from my mother. Or instead, maybe I should go and spear him for being unworthy to rule the campus. All the man does is smoke and drink tea."

"Highwind?"

"Lockheart, would you _please_ be so kind as to educate your _roommate_ about school procedures and officers and any similar information? Mother forbid she continues to ask stupid questions the next time I see her – and hopefully, _that's_ in the very distant future." Annoyed, Sephiroth turned on his heel and left the dormitory, followed by the rest of the boys, who said their goodbyes on their way out.

Jessie pointedly looked at Yuffie.

"You really should have read that pamphlet. Not that you're obligated to, but it would be to your benefit if you want to avoid his seemingly never-ending wrath. Sephiroth has little patience for people, especially after discovering his musical talents." She scoffed. "He thinks he's god-like now that nearly every girl in school salivates over him. It's like watching a committee of vultures clamoring over a piece of dead meat. It's actually very disgusting."

Tifa restrained herself from laughing. It seemed to Yuffie that there was an inside joke among them regarding the subject of their discussion.

"Zack, Cloud, Sephiroth, and Vincent formed a band called the _One-Winged Angel_." Tifa clarified. "The name's a bit contrived, but I'm sure you can guess who came up with it. Highwind is our headmaster – or Cid Highwind, to be precise. As a precaution, I urge you not to call him 'Mister' or any other respectful titles. He says it makes him sound old, so calling him 'Cid' is fine."

"What about Biggs and Wedge?" Yuffie inquired.

"Biggs and Wedge help transport their instruments from place to place. Tifa and I keep the band in line." Jessie grinned.

Tifa continued, "We manage them, although Sephiroth tried to fight for a line of soldiers instead." Jessie rolled her eyes at this. "Because of what we do, we have a tendency to be overbearing and wary with strangers. There are some crazed ... fans ... out there, who think _OWA_ is real. Which they're not."

"Sephiroth would like to think otherwise." Jessie added. "He thinks he's the real deal. We, however, would oblige to contest to that."

Yuffie nodded, absorbing the new information.

_One-Winged Angel_ was an infamous pretend band, locally; Cid Highwind was her master who smoked and drank tea and still liked to retain his youth; and Sephiroth was potentially hazardous to her health. It wasn't much to go from, but she was sure that nothing about this school would surprise her.

Maybe.

* * *

_**Afterthoughts:**  
I can't tell whether the length of this chapter has remained the same. Whatever. It's still weird, and it's going to get even weirder. I can't take this story seriously, as you can clearly see. There are subtle parallels to the game and to AC but nothing more than referencing certain events, etc. Anything else is mostly creative license kicking into gear._

_More editing up ahead, and then update. Or not. I keep saying things that never happen because that's the way I roll._

_(And yes, Reno is half-Italian, because I said so.)_


	2. Operation 02

As of 07/20/08, this chapter has also been revised. Because I'm just getting back into the swing of things, I'm not sure about what to do with this, but we'll see. I'm only practicing at this point. I could go crack!fic on everybody, so don't take this seriously. :)

* * *

**NOTES -**  
I tried to reconsider Sephiroth's role as the flaming gay villain, but it's just too funny. And if _Square Enix_ ever decides to join Cloud and Sephiroth at the hip, that will be the day. Because, clearly, there is some major UST between these two. Never mind the fact that I, occasionally, like to slut them up with other characters. Can't help it, you know. In other news, I really don't know what the time lapse is for this story, but just go with it.

**Pairing - **MVO, a.k.a. Multiple Vague Ones**  
Summary -** AU; Obsession, love, distress, and rock stars compile the motley students of the prestigious Shin-Ra Academy.

_**Warning -**_ Severely AU. Unrequited (?) slash and your regular programmed heterosexual relationships. Exaggerated drama, movie references, etc.

* * *

**LOVE PANIC**_  
paranoia complex_

Operation 02: We Burn Egos For A Living

-

Passing the music wing was always an adventure, mostly due to the fact that simpering women – teachers and students alike – paraded around in hopes of catching a glimpse of _OWA_ during their practice sessions. It was one thing to see them on stage and performing live; it was another to watch them in their natural setting. In truth, the school was a manifestation of a zoo, although Aeris was unclear of which party was the observer and which were the array of animals. When _OWA_ was involved, the line between was thin and barely visible.

The gaggle of girls murmured and sighed, completely ignoring Aeris' presence, which was fine with her. She pushed her way through the clumps, hearing the resonance of strings and strong percussion muffled in the background. A smooth melody on the piano wove its way into the music, blending, emphasizing, closely followed by the vocal accompaniment. Aeris had initially intended to pass by _Wing A, Room 102_ for discussing the festival assignments, but hearing the music escaping into the corridors only proved that no one had any real intention of meeting together.

That was to be remedied. When it came to school spirit, Shin-Ra Academy lacked in every aspect.

She supposed it was because the students and the faculty were too busy slobbering over themselves with false infatuation and overwhelming lust for a band composed of arrogant jerks, who stole the life and very soul of the festival committee. After all, the band themselves (or some) were members of said committee, and what did they commit their lives to? Their band that, in all honesty, wasn't going anywhere. Especially with Sephiroth as the lead singer and self-proclaimed head honcho. (Not that anyone really listened to him.)

And it wasn't that Sephiroth was a bad singer; it was just, well, _him_.

Oh, he grated her nerves like nails on a chalkboard. If she had time, she would have thought of other quaint metaphors to describe her feelings for him. If anybody was a parasite, it was Sephiroth. Shame he was bestowed with the gift for singing. It pained her to admit, but his voice was pitch perfect in all respects. In the name of Lifestream, she was always curious why whatever deity ruled the world decided to give him the gift of song. Like he needed it. What he needed was the gift of modesty, that narcissist. Ever since he was born, she suspected that he was already the proud owner of a bloated ego. Sephiroth had a four-octave range. It was impressive.

But she would rather be _stabbed_ than enlighten him with this revelation. There was no justice in the world. Shiva help the poor soul who thought it fit to inflate his balloon-like head.

Minutes past her mild decline into self-revery, she finally remembered that it was her duty to gather vital information for the festival and relay it back to her _step_brother (who, by the way, had no say in her social affairs). She gathered her wits about herself and opened the door to the music room and strode in, surprised by the blast of the pitchy guitars and the reverberating clash of cymbals.

The raging sounds stopped, however, as all eyes focused on the source of their disruption. Or almost all of them.

Sephiroth, who had yet to learn that his partners-in-crime had stopped playing, continued to sing. Lows, highs, choruses, bridges – all in tune. Disgustingly so. _Did this man have any flaws_?

Aeris refrained from giggling. The man was an island unto himself. Set the world on fire and he'd probably be admiring his reflection in his bedroom – no, _lair_. To say he was a true narcissist would be undermining his true nature. Calling him as such would be a compliment. A genuinely nice one. How his puny brain managed to twist the cruelty of her lexicon into something complimentary was beyond her comprehension.

"_Ahem_," she interrupted, "excuse me?"

Ignored. Ignored, ignored, ignored. _How rude_.

Zack, noting his friend's lack of observation, flung one of his drumsticks at his head. It clattered to the floor, and it was only seconds after a mild stupor and contemplation that the frontman had noticed the silence. He looked animatedly around him, hair whirling around his body, as he tried to find the source of the band's interruption. If it was one thing he hated, it was being interrupted. Everything had to be bleeding perfect. If a mistake was made due to missing these precious practice moments, he would be tempted to find and kill with a frenzy.

His gaze finally landed on _her_, the _intruder_, the girl with the interfering nature – the Monstrous Woman From Hell who was deigned to be the cause of his death, the Woman Who Took Away His _Dignity_.

He pointed one long finger in her direction, eyes ablaze with fury.

"_Heathen_!"

Aeris gaped at him. Whether from shock or dumb amusement, she couldn't say, but did he just call her a _heathen_?

"Oh, settle down, you Shakespearean vulture." Tifa snapped.

Sephiroth had the audacity to look insulted. "Shakespeare was a divine literary author and poet, and I won't allow you to speak ill of his ways."

"No, but he would rot in his grave to discover you idolize him." She sweetly responded. Aeris wasn't sure if the other girl was aware of the demonic glint in his eye. She wondered if he was ever institutionalized in this life or his past life because his personality did indicate one of a psychotic madman. She had to hand it to Tifa Lockheart, who had a tight leash around the man's neck, if ever he stepped out of his boundaries. Which he did. Frequently.

Tifa jumped off from the edge of the band's makeshift stage and strolled towards the shorter girl. In Aeris' opinion, Tifa managed to look daunting every single time, even though the entire student body had come to rely on her as a natural source of companionship. Between her and the rest of her friends, odds said that she was more likely to venture out and network with individuals other than the ones she accustomed herself to.

"Sorry, Aeris. Now isn't really a good time. Carlotta here still remains to be satisfied." She said, apologetically, gesturing to Sephiroth who glared back.

"I'd be careful if I were you, you smart-mouthed harpy."

"I'm sorry, were you talking about yourself?"

"If I had a sword, I'd stick you a good one."

"Charming." Sarcasm. Gobs of it.

The blond guitarist, Cloud Strife, kicked the singer in his shins.

"Stop being rude, asshole."

"Oh, don't be jealous, Strife," grinned Sephiroth. "I'd let you take a stab at her. We could even be a duo – just _you_ and _me_."

Cloud paled and excused himself in search of the nearest lavatory. As Tifa looked at his running form in pity, Aeris cleared her throat.

"I'll need the committee team. Rufus wants to have a word with us."

Tifa pursed her lips for a moment. "I'm sorry, but ..."

She turned, briefly, to see Sephiroth doubled over in laughter. Cackling. Quite evil, that one.

"On second thought, just take him with you." She turned to Vincent. "What about you? Aren't you on the committee?"

Vincent shook his head. "I've spoken to Rufus already.

"Mutinous wretch." Sephiroth sneered.

Jessie snorted. "Stop sounding like you're being sent to D-District. Not only is it unbecoming of you, but you're taking the situation too seriously. You're skipping, at most, half an hour to speak with the school president on festivities that's all-inclusive. So stop whining, you stupid man, and _go_."

If Sephiroth could have looked any more furious, seething with tumultuous rage, it was now.

-

-

"_Heathen_? Really?" Aeris repeated the once-said insult, as she walked alongside – albeit a few inches away – from the silver-haired man with aggression to burn. He needed counseling, surely.

"Demoted to the likes of _treasurer_ when I should have bloody well been the _vice president_. I don't see why my further presence is required. This is unholy," he sneered, "and it's all _your_ fault, Gainsborough."

"Harboring ill will, are we? That's rich."

"I am. The only reason you got that position was because your brother is _president_."

"_Step_brother."

"Oh, did I strike a nerve?"

"I don't see why it's such a big deal for you. Treasurer, vice president – it's all relative."

"I can kill you with my eyes closed."

"I'd like to see you _try_."

Grumble, grumble. "You will rue the day, Gainsborough. You. Will. Rue. The. Day."

-

-

"What exactly are we discussing here? Make it snappy, Your Highness, I have a rehearsal to get back to. They're probably wailing at my absence."

Rufus rolled his eyes and tried to convince himself that he _wanted_ this position and that he had _no choice_ but to hire the unfortunate prodigal child of a madman, whoever the unlucky sod might be. Sephiroth was not on his Good List, and he reckoned he would never get an ant hair within range of it. Which was a good thing, all things considered. He feared what Sephiroth was capable of doing when one came in close contact with him.

As president, he had the power to give committee members the boot, but his stepsister decided to grow a heart for the withered soul and thought it would benefit them all by persuading him to keep the silver-haired nut job on the team. It was a confusing gesture because as he was sure to remember, Aeris _despised_ him. And vice versa, although that went without saying. Sephiroth and Aeris were sworn enemies the moment they laid eyes on each other. No one could really understand the hatred that fueled between them, but it was there.

Rufus had long ago decided that Aeris was either sadistic or masochistic in nature. Or, quite possibly, both.

"I have no time for the festival tonight, nor do I have the strength to participate in it." He motioned to his legs; fortunately for him, no one knew he wasn't exactly confined to his wheelchair. It was all a matter of preference, really, and the fact he could designate whatever he so chose without complaint (at least not in his presence) because everyone pitied him. Not that he particularly liked that part, but it had its benefits. "I need you, Aeris, to fill in any necessary roles, and the treasurer – that's you, Sephiroth – to handle all monetary gain. I need it counted, re-counted, organized, and reported back to me." _Like the dog you are_.

"You like to rub that in my face, don't you?"

"I say it the way I see it."

"May I have the honor of rolling you off the nearest cliff?"

Rufus motioned him to go away. "I've no time for you and your melodrama. Go fight someone else who cares."

Aeris rested her hands on her hips and pointedly looked at the taller man.

"Is that all your life is comprised of?" she demanded. "Doing your best to poke fun at people who are not as well-equipped as you?"

Sephiroth leered, "And what do you mean by 'well-equipped'? Because I certainly am better than Shin-Ra-on-wheels here."

"You're not the president," she snapped.

"I may _be_ the treasurer, but I am a _rock god_."

"Your arrogance astounds me."

"Not as astounding as that plebeian crush you've got on Cardinali. Not that he pays much mind to you except insult your nonexistent talents."

Aeris shrieked; Rufus gaped.

Sephiroth looked like a maniacal wind-up toy on acid. He was feeding on the escalating tension between brother and sister, chuckling with hearty pleasure.

Rufus spun around to face Aeris head-on while the latter chose to back away.

"Lay _off_ my friends."

"But _why_? You're not in love with Reno, are you?"

"No!"

"So why does it matter that I'm interested in him?"

Rufus sulked in his chair. "_Because_ he's more interested in what women have to offer him than what he can give to them. It's a one-sided relationship that won't work. _Plus_, he's a friend of mine so if _awkward_ doesn't spell it out for you, I don't know what will."

"Bravo!" cheered Sephiroth. "Not as exciting as a full-on fight between siblings, but what can you expect from Miss Chastity Belt over here and the physically handicapped?"

"I'll kill you," Rufus threatened.

"If you had legs to walk on," he snapped back.

Aeris decided it was high time for payback. Reaching over for a thick textbook lying on a table nearby, she picked it up and flung it at the treasurer's face. _Bulls-eye_.

"You _cow_!"

* * *

_**Afterthoughts:**  
The plot holes will be filled, eventually. I'm kind of working on this thing I like to call spontaneity. In other words, I generally work as this story goes along, despite knowing the overall product of it. If you find loopholes, which are bound to happen, discuss it with me! And the OOC, yeah. I have nothing to defend, except I think it's funny. Remember, guys, this is not meant to be a tribute to the game/movie; I'm having fun with it._

--

• _**Will Aeris be with Reno?**  
I don't know. Both of them could be gay for all I know. These characters have a mind of their own. Or hey, reviewer involvement. I take opinions into consideration, hint hint! Though, I don't know, being the master puppeteer is pretty hysterical._

• _**Vincent and Tifa? Your story says so under 'Characters'!**  
Yeah, that was before. It's two years later, and I may just change everything. Freshen the plot up a bit with complicated triangles and rectangles. Who knows. Maybe they'll go fap-fap-fapping by the end of it all. Bribe me! I kid, I kid._

• _**Why is Sephiroth gay?**  
Because it's funny._

• _**Is he really gay?**  
Hm, his intentions are questionable. It's like putting a man out to sea for years with other men. What's one to do with all that pent up sexual frustration? Well, that doesn't really make sense since he's also surrounded by women. Only time will tell!_


	3. Operation 03

As of 07/20/08, chapter revised and all that jazz. Whenever I do any full revising, I get too tired to update a new chapter. We'll see, we'll see.

* * *

**NOTES -**  
Sometimes I forget how fun it is to write about fictional characters that are already existing. It's much more difficult to build a plot from scratch and expect every aspect of it to come alive. Rah, rah. Whatever. I found this one rough draft of another crack!fic called _The Lounge_, and it was pretty darned ridiculous. Not sure where this one ranks up, but I'd wager it's close enough. Unfortunately, I've got no other stories up my sleeve unless you like _Ouran_ or something.

**Pairing - **MVO, a.k.a. Multiple Vague Ones**  
Summary -** AU; Obsession, love, distress, and rock stars compile the motley students of the prestigious Shin-Ra Academy.

_**Warning -**_ Severely AU. Unrequited (?) slash and your regular programmed heterosexual relationships. Exaggerated drama, movie references, etc.

* * *

**LOVE PANIC**_  
paranoia complex_

Operation 03: When Intentions Go Unclear

-

"If any of you say anything about my face, I will hunt you down and burn you at a stake."

Sephiroth stalked back inside the music room, grabbing the attention of his fellow peers. Vincent, who had been arranging his piano compositions, looked at Cloud, sharing knowing glances. Zack, on the other hand, watched the taller man with utmost fascination as he brushed a well-buffed and manicured hand through his silky hair, as if to placate himself that he was still ridiculously good-looking, despite the harsh blemish on his face. But Cerberus have mercy on his soul, that was one _hell_ of a shiner. Despite Sephiroth's attempt at keeping a calm expression, Zack could have sworn that his eyes simply _glistened_ with unshed tears.

Perhaps under normal circumstances he might have laughed. Guffawed, even, throwing caution to the wind. Of course, this was all under the assumed notion that the current scenario 'normal'. Which it wasn't. Which, really, made him want to laugh even more. Sephiroth in one of his melodramatic phases, even drawn to tears, was always an event meant to be celebrated. _Oh Ifrit_, if only he had a camera handy.

But, back to the situation at hand. Zack decided to take a hold of it, jumping the gun, because jumping guns was something he did. In other words, it was time to push buttons, play innocent and stupid, watch his friend squirm with gleeful anticipation. Doing so was an adventure, an adrenaline rush. Torturing his old buddy, old pal was the _highlight_ of his day.

He set his guitar aside and leaned back on his hands.

"So what is it, O King, that we are commanded to refrain from saying?" he asked with pomp and pleasure. Watching Sephiroth shake in pent up fury gave him tingles. _Tingles_ that sizzled out of control. He realized the relish Sephiroth derived from other people's pain; it was amusing. He might have been tempted to say that this was as good as sex; unfortunately, he was extremely male, so there was no chance that this was _as good_. But it certainly came close. _Pun intended_? He snickered. Pun _definitely_ intended.

"Wipe that disgusting grin off your face, Zack." Tifa spat with underlying discomfort. Being surrounded by an overwhelming amount of testosterone for most of her life was beginning to have its effect on her nerves. _Perverts, all of them_!

Sephiroth, having ignored the brief exchange between the latter two, spun around and, with great exaggeration, pointed at his face.

"Are you _blind_? This crude mark that mars my handsome, once _flawless_ face will be the bane of my existence. No woman will want me now! That – that undeserving _trollop_ dared to scathe my ivory complexion! And for what!" he seethed and continued, "When that cow's not looking – probably daydreaming, that insufferable wench – I'll beam down upon her from above and _stab_ her through her back and watch with glee as she falls! from the wrath of my sword in a pitiful heap of her no-good trills and _tra-la-la_."

The rest of the group stared at him, blankly. Awkwardly. On one hand, their endearing freak show of a friend sounded delightful about his plan and appeared fairly serious about his newfound quest. On the other ...

"You don't own a sword."

"But when I _do_, I'll make sure to kill you too, my dear Zack. In fact, I think I'll be decent enough to dedicate the person-made skewer, _Aerzack On A Stick_. Like a barbecued buffet, only better."

Cloud began hacking in the background, as Zack stared at the deranged youth with a leveled gaze.

"You just think it'll be better because it'll have _me_ on a stick. Although I can't blame you; everybody wants me that way."

Cloud wheezed and choked and coughed. And if it wasn't for Tifa and Jessie's assistance – patting his back and all – he might have _died_. Actually, come to think of it, Cloud decided that it might have been better for his well-being if the two girls left him alone. Better floating in the Lifestream than sharing the same air as his ill-intentioned stalker.

Sephiroth looked at Zack. "Mainly, yes. What, you don't like it?"

"_No_."

"The name _is_ quite offensive, isn't it? Well, how about _Zaeris On A Stick_? Hybrids are such wonderful creations, aren't they? They hold so _much_ meaning and –

"I'm _straight_, you idiot."

Sephiroth nodded, appearing somewhat reasonable, though surprisingly tolerant of such name-calling.

"Of course I know that. Am I not helping your cause? _Zerth On A Skewer_ is much easier on the tongue, I imagine."

"Say, what's that red, ugly blotch on your face?"

The poor boy with the flowing moonspun hair began to spasm in a heap of limbs. When his screeching anger commenced, his friends dispersed in a hurry, agreeing to meet later when they recovered from fits of laughter.

-

-

Elena sat under the cherry blossom tree, casting a decent shelter from the sun, peeling a fruit of unknown origin, when a shadow loomed over her. She continued peeling, raw skin sticking beneath her fingernails, unaware of the approaching figure that swaggered her way. The scent of citrus and honey wafted in the air when a hand quickly snatched it away from her. Elena sighed, knowing there was no way around this unwelcome encounter of sorts. She looked up into the face of Reno Cardinali, Stupid Boy Wonder, the Genius of All Morons, Unsightly Sore She Ever Had the Displeasure of Meeting. There were many names to describe him, and she may have continued had he not invited himself to suddenly sit down next to her.

"Don't you have some other unwilling female to bother?"

Reno closed his eyes and bit into the fruit. _How rude_, she thought. Seeing food being torn apart by canines and molars and all fascinating dental details was not part of her daily agenda.

"I imagine they're around somewhere. Doing things. Preening and giggling like all girls do." He said, airily. He opened one eye to look at her. "Except for you. Which is why I can't stay away from you."

Deadpan. "You like the preening and giggling."

He shrugged and tossed the fruit back to her, which she avoided by leaning aside, watching it fall to the grass with a soft _plop_. No way was she touching – much less eating – anything that had been in his mouth. The kind of viruses she'd contract, the germs, everything! In fact, just looking at him made her queasy and compelled her to wash her hands, as if she'd touched something unclean. Sitting next to Cardinali was also something akin to degeneration: the process was slow, but the road to self-stupid was drawing near.

She sighed; her head hurt.

"Maybe. But I like a bit of this, also," he referred to their particular situation with a wave of his hand, "despite what you may think."

"Uh huh." Skepticism. And a lot of it.

His face contorted to a feigned expression of flabbergast.

"You _wound_ me, Elena."

"It's intentional, I assure you," she replied dryly. "Now _shoo_."

Reno smirked and leaned back against the tree, casually curling his right arm around her shoulders. She flinched, reaching out to slap his hand away, causing him to hold on tighter.

"Shut up, Elles."

"Aeris likes you."

"I know."

"Okay."

"Okay."

-

-

Yuffie stretched, feeling comfortable and refreshed in her khaki shorts and dark green top. She felt _free_, uninhibited. The sun was warm on her skin, and she wanted to explore. Well, it was that or find Tifa and Jesse, but that ultimately meant having to see the devil again, in which case she opted for the former. She hopped down the steps and surveyed the new land, as it were. Fresh green grass, trees, warm air, _sun_. Currently, it was quite perfect. There were even lovebirds hanging about under the trees, and it was just the beginning of spring! Never mind that looking at that scene was definitely puke-worthy. Couldn't people be more like _love doves_ in the privacy of their own room?

Leviathan, how rude!

But, for the most part, she was enjoying her day in the sun. In fact, she might have continued onwards had she not stepped onto something squishy. That squeaked. Like a dog toy. And muttered gibberish that might have been a string of curse words, considering the _thing_ was currently hopping on its foot and stroking the other. Upon looking closer, she discovered it was –

"Cait!" Soft, baritone voice. Held some authority. Sounded professional. A teacher?

The cat looked up at her and held out its paw, a rounded stuffed thing that couldn't do much except shake in her face. Out of anger, she suspected. She stared. And stared some more.

"... I'm sorry?"

It huffed and waddled away to the sound of the voice.

Cait, as the cat was called, was not real. In retrospect, it looked like it was made of cotton and some other fabrics. But it _talked_. And it _yelped_. Okay, so it didn't so much as talk or yelp as make animated motions in an alien language that sounded more like a fragmenting computer, but it was certainly _alive_.

"Oh, I see you've met one of our professors."

Yuffie blinked and looked over her shoulder. A boy stood behind her with red hair (though not as red as the stranger she met on the train platform earlier that day), spiked and barraged with beads and other hair accessories. Fairly tall, about her age, _poised_. Very unlike the first redhead she encountered. In fact, his eyes glistened gold – amber, to be precise – and his skin was fair. On his left arm was the imprint of a _XIII_. A tattoo.

Wait a minute. That _stuffed cat_ was her _professor_?

"Yes."

She might have toppled over from shock. She really did voice her thoughts aloud, didn't she? _Have got to quell that habit_!

"See," he began, "the _real_ professor – the man behind it – doesn't like to be seen for one reason or another. So he sends this cat he built to stand in for him. It's good for avoiding others, so I can only imagine that's why he made it in the first place."

"Oh." Right, _oh_. This school was bizarre. Her good-for-nothing father sent her to an asylum for _eccentrics_. Oh, if only vacation could come sooner. She'd hunt that old man down with a bomb or two, and a trap for good measure. Send him off to a chocobo plantation where he rightfully belonged. And, of course, that would all ensue _after_ she kicked him in his shins. It was protocol.

The boy chuckled. "Yes, we're all mad here, I'm afraid."

Hypnotized, really. She assumed it was the eyes. Or his voice. But _gawd_! he was pretty. She really needed to stop voicing out her thoughts.

"Uh, I'm Yuffie." _Stupid_!

He smiled and outstretched his hand, "Call me Red."

* * *

_**Afterthoughts:**  
Er, yes. Yuffie transferred in mid-season. Or whatever. I don't know how school systems work in their la-la land, but let's pretend people can do that. Pretend and amuse me that you know this and won't question it. As for Red, I would have gone for Nanaki, but, um, I didn't. Red is a cooler name, anyway. So there._

_Below are questions I've already answered, but I thought to put it here as well as an update._

--

• _**Vincent the Bassist?**  
He's the pianist. I think Cloud's the bassist. Or was that Zack? Oh, pish posh, details aren't necessary, except that they're good with instruments. No pun intended. Except Sephiroth might think otherwise._

• _**Sephiroth is gay? Make him bisexual, you stupid girl!**  
I realize the question wasn't phrased that way, but it doesn't matter. Better to appease the nonexistent masses, as I say. At any rate, gay and bisexual are all too relative words. I mean, is he _really _gay? I don't know. He might just really be a foxy maniac, who likes to get a rise out of people. I don't know. He's very fickle._

• _**Aeris and Reno? Together? Please?**  
I know it's easy to come to that assumption, but it's all very one-sided. Eh, or not. In fact, I'm not even sure who Reno likes. Teens and their hormones. Psh._

• _**Yuffie is cool, you harlot. Put her back!**  
But I did, I did!_

• _**You rule.**  
Okay, so no one actually said that, but I decided to put this in here for the sake of ending this FAQ and because I can. I have that power, you know._


	4. Operation 04

**NOTES -**  
Is she alive? Really? No way! Yes way! For some reason or another, I found a rough draft lying about in one of my file folders. Coincidentally, it was around the same time I thought I needed to work on my writing some more because I hadn't done much of it recently. I'm not really a part of this fandom participation anymore, but FFVII is just way too awesome to ignore. And I honestly can't believe that people still read this, which is amazing to me. And inspirational. La!

**Pairing - **MVO, a.k.a. Multiple Vague Ones**  
Summary -** AU; Obsession, love, distress, and rock stars compile the motley students of the prestigious Shin-Ra Academy.

_**Warning -**_ Severely AU. Unrequited (?) slash and your regular programmed heterosexual relationships. Exaggerated drama, movie references, etc.

* * *

**LOVE PANIC**_  
paranoia complex_

Operation 04: Ambiguity, Bane Of My Existence

-

Cloud stood before his closet, looking for something to wear for the evening. Sephiroth demanded that everyone wear tight leather pants and nothing but a button down jacket so, if a drumming crescendo called for it, the entire band could easily rip off their shirts, set them aside, and sell them to the crazy girls that ambushed the stage the second their band was announced to perform. In some ways, he could understand that. After all, it was the committee that needed the money to put up all the necessary booths and decorations _in order_ to ensure their spot at the festival. But, still, there were other ways of earning some money – like, say, selling autographs. Sephiroth just wanted to see him naked, that hormonal pervert. He was a violent, lecherous blockhead who frightened anyone in his path – unless their name was an anagram for Coiled Turfs or Cold Use Rift or Scold True If. There simply was no getting away from him.

He sighed and ruffled his hair. What he would not do for some piece of tranquility.

"You should wear this and only this." A necktie.

He blinked once. Blinked twice. No, no, no. He was here _first_. They left him _there_. There was just _no_ way it was possible. Then again, it was him and he was crazy.

"_Get out of my closet_, Sephiroth."

He grinned. "Why, when there's enough room for two?"

Cloud decided he wanted to cry. Or die. Both were favorable options.

_Or maybe I should just strangle him_.

But the more he thought about it, the more he felt the freak would actually enjoy the last one. He sighed. It was going to be a long, _long_ day.

-

-

Boy and girl, two of her best students, both wise in their own way. Opposites, mostly, but complementary to each other. They contrasted with the sleek charcoal of the grand piano, but they blended well, as if this was their natural habitat. The attraction was subtle and electric but neither one acknowledged it, or, dare she hope, there was nothing there? That maybe their chemistry was purely platonic and only that? _Still_. She was loving and warm; he was distant and cold. They had things in common, like the piano. He was elegant and calculating with his fingers, never missed a note, and switching from staccato to legato at the drop of a hat; she improvised, made mistakes and laughed at it, and encouraged him to loosen his posture. She would smile widely, and he would smile with his eyes.

Working opposites attracted. It was simple logic.

It pained her to admit it, but she was at a disadvantage. She clenched the handle of her briefcase, taking one last look at the duo, and walked away.

-

-

Leviathan, he was _cute_! And his hands were warm. Really warm. Unnaturally warm. She grimaced and pulled her hand back. _Ouch, ouch, ouch_! He looked contrite, and her heart melted. Literally melted. Probably down into the area of her stomach, over her bones, that kind of thing. Graphic image, maybe, but it was _romantic_ to her. Sort of. Shake always said she was a little twisted.

Red clenched and unclenched his hand before resting it at his side again.

"Sorry. That runs in my family; they can't explain it." He shrugged. "Which is okay, you know? It makes me kind of unique, I guess."

Yuffie nodded. He looked a little sad. And cute. Crazy cute. _Hey now, he's looking sad. Cheer him up! How? I don't know. Think, you twit_.

"No, it's a good thing! It's – you're warm-blooded?" _Lame, Kisaragi. So lame._ "I bet you get a lot of comments about it."

"Well –

And a gust of wind. No, not wind. It was –

-

-

"Hide _me_!"

Vincent and Tifa looked up from the piano. Cloud looked petrified, scared stiff, hysterically blocking the door with his whole body. With a feather boa around his neck. With no shirt on. Trousers unbuttoned, wrinkled, like he'd been ravished by a relentless horndog. Poor fellow, really. It was entertaining, sometimes, to watch him flail around. Rarely did he ever lose composure, so it was pleasing to see that he had some kind of breaking point.

"I said _hide me_!"

Tifa rolled her eyes and smiled. She motioned for him to join her at the piano where she offered her spot for him next to Vincent. Cloud hyperventilated, eyes dilated with genuine fear. She tilted her head, sending a silent inquiry to the stoic youth next to him. She cleared her throat and flounced to the door, exiting, and shutting it behind her.

"Lockheart!" called Sephiroth. "Strife. Where is he?"

Innocently. "I don't know."

"Don't lie to me, you horrible woman! I saw him run in this direction, and I _want_ to know."

"_Why_?"

"Does it matter? Not that you care. You're a simpleton, and I don't deal with simpletons. He's in there, isn't he? _Isn't he_?" Sephiroth peered over her shoulder through the small built-in window on the door. "Strife, get out of there! I know you're frightened of my masculinity, but you'll grow into it. I promi – _What is that?_"

Tifa smiled, cheekily.

She ducked under him, twisting the knob to push the door open. And there the two of them stood, gawking at a sight _she_ was neither expecting:

Vincent and Cloud, feather boa tangled around their necks, in a provocative position that proved too – too – Tifa blushed madly and tried to suppress the largest grin a lucky girl like her could ever grin. Poor Sephiroth, he would probably die from jealousy. Or kill Vincent with an imaginary spear while he slept. Tifa looked up at him, reluctantly poking his arm. "Are you alive? Do you want to talk about it? It could have been an accident, you know."

"That. Is. The best thing I have ever seen! Stay like that! I'm getting my camera!" He bolted away from the doorframe, leaving a sheepish Tifa to stare at her two friends, still locked in an embrace.

Cloud grimaced and removed himself from the other boy. "Sorry, I tripped."

Vincent shrugged, coolly returning the feathered boa to him. He stared up at Tifa.

"How was that?"

Cloud's eyes widened, glancing between the two. "_What_?"

"Unexpected. Good, but unexpected. Say, can ... can you guys do that again? I'd like to get that on a pho –

"Tifa!"

"Sorry, sorry!"

-

-

"We wouldn't work, Cardinali."

"Aw, Elles, why not? We'd be perfect for each other." He squeezed her shoulder. "Just admit it. Beneath all that prudish behavior of yours, you really like me."

"You're as likable as a bandersnatch."

Reno shifted away and laughed. "Those are fighting words."

"You ask for it."

"Do I really?"

Elena said nothing. Instead, she rummaged through her knapsack and pulled out another fruit. He watched her carefully as she peeled the skin off with her fingers. She was precise, removed the skin as symmetrical as possible. Her quirks were admirable, adorable, _different_. Elena was different.

"Tell Aeris I said hello." With that, he stood up and sauntered off.

She paused, mid-peel, and looked at the fruit in her hands, darting one more glance at his retreating figure. With a purse of her lips, she brought it to her mouth and bit into it.

She made a face –

_Yuck._

And proceeded to peel off the rest.

* * *

_**Afterthoughts:**  
Aren't I terrible, ruining those precious moments? Actually, I'm working on companion vignettes that are more serious in nature. You could say that they _do_ happen in this happy!crack universe that I've developed for them but moreso behind the scenes. And, I don't know, I could explore and experiment with different things, see what's more appealing, etc. As much as I like nonsense, I do have a sensitive bone in my body. Quite a lot of it, scarily enough._ _Again, a lot of things transition abruptly, mainly because I just go with the flow. And if I don't like where it's going, I like to end it as soon as possible to make it to the next scene. It's a little unorthodox, if not headache-inducing, but I'll make it up to everyone. I swear!_

_(Sephiroth as a flaming flamingo is so adorable and so not canonical at all. But I do gather amusement from it. I'm writing this story at his expense, to be honest.)_

--

• _**Sephiroth's violent tendencies reflect the game! Cool!**  
So it's noticeable! Whoo! No, but seriously, everything that correlates to the game/movie is pretty intentional. Hence the notes about references and whatnot. Glad that they're obvious, though._

• _**Gay thespians are awesome!**  
Totally!_

• _**More Vincent and Tifa, pretty please?**  
Done! Maybe there'll be more, who knows! But I foreshadowed some drama. It'll be awesome in the most awesome way possible. There are a few pairings that like to get serious on me; it's destroying the atmosphere of my story_

• _**Put more Vincent this instant!**  
Is he really more popular? Other than Mister Theatrics? Wow, I am amazed. Cool, because I like him too!_

• _**Reno has a partner, you know! There is no Reno without Rude.**  
Very, very true. Don't worry – everyone will be introduced in due time._

• _**Red XIII is human? You psycho.**  
Sephiroth's already an animal. We don't need another one. Plus, come on, you have to admit that it's not that terrible of an idea._

• _**Who is Tifa ending up with?**  
Erm, um, look! What's that? I see a squirrel._

• _**Sephiroth's a dork. I love him.**  
So do I. And he totally stole the show, apparently._

• _**I bribe you with cake! And fast food to clog your arteries! So update!**  
Make it goldfish crackers, and we have a deal! Or your firstborn – that works too._


End file.
